


the truth, in so many words

by allegoricalrose (SilentStars)



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 05:58:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4127553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentStars/pseuds/allegoricalrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The publishers of my book want a last minute pre-publication update. On my second series of Doctor Who. And on you. And that’s the big question. What do I say about David Ten-inch?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	the truth, in so many words

 

One minute he’s flipping through a new script and the next there’s a bang and a crash and he’s almost tilted onto his side when his couch creaks under the weight of a blonde vision.

“I need to say something about you.” As usual, she doesn’t acknowledge that she’s easily picked his lock again and has plopped herself down in his living quarters, and as usual he doesn’t say anything about it because he secretly loves it. Perhaps not so secretly.

Still, he grumbles and adjusts his position, primly folding down the corner of the scene he certainly wasn’t ignoring and daydreaming about her instead.

“Good evening, Miss Piper. To what do I owe the pleasure? Finished packing already?”

It’s her turn to groan but it’s playful; she snatches his glasses off his face and throws them onto the bed. “Social niceties, yada yada. The publishers of my book want a last minute pre-publication update. On my second series of Doctor Who. And on you.” She grins and tilts her head and he fights the natural gravity of his eyes to her protruding tongue. She holds him ensnared for a moment before continuing. “And that’s the big question. What do I say about David Ten-inch?”

He shrugs, scratching his arm and looking anywhere but in her eyes. “The party line I guess. We got on like a house on fire, he’s a magnificent actor, he’s sure to win every award possible for this series, blah blah blah.”

Every syllable is injected with lightness but it plays like a funeral dirge.

Bille’s grin melts into a smirk. “Is that so?”

“Mmm,” he attempts to agree distractedly, nonchalantly, cool as a cucumber. He fails on an epic scale when his hands start shaking and she’s too close, there’s not even space for him to surreptitiously wipe his palms on his trouser legs.

Her fingers begin a sultry saunter over to his leg and he forces his gaze to remain just center and above her eyes.

“Because I really like the idea of telling the truth.”

An out—an out! He grabs it and runs, twisting to face her and affecting an exaggerated pout.  “Are you trying to imply I’m  _not_  magnificent?”

“Absolutely not.” Christ, she’s relentless and her voice is like dripping honey. “On the contrary. I was thinking—” In a move almost too flawlessly executed to be real, she’s got his jean button undone one-handed. “—I might tell them exactly how magnificent you are. Special. Impressive.”

She kicks away the coffee table and moves to kneel between his legs. His body says yes and his heart says yes and even his mind says yes and whatever part of him is supposed to object to this is not only absent but also curiously non-existent. With a shuddering intake of breath, he helps her slide down the zipper and pull him out of his boxer briefs, slightly too thick to pretend he hasn’t been thinking about her even before she burst into his room.

She strokes him with the lightest of touch a few times and just as he’s about to lean back she leans forward and engulfs him whole.

“Jesus Christ, Bill,” he chokes out and her sudden movement makes him thrust upward involuntarily. In horror, he realises he’s in too deep (in far  _far_  too many ways) when he hits the back of her throat. He pulls back immediately but she stops him with a hand on his hip.

There’s a moment of absolute still where his imagination is so vividly picturing his hands in her hair that he has to glance down several times to ensure they’re securely clutching the edge of the couch cushion.

She drags her lips off him slowly, her tongue forging a slippery trail, and she resumes speaking with just the tip of him brushing along her lips. “I think my readers would be very interested in how hot and heavy David’s cock feels in my mouth. How he’s big enough that my lips are stretched and my jaw is sore for days.”

“Billie…”

He’s back inside the warmth of her mouth and she’s sucking and twirling and  _fuck_ how is she so good at this? Don’t people have off-days? Aren’t some people not perfect every single bloody day? Because she’s brilliant, every single time, and he dimly wonders if there’s some sort of Guinness World Record he should nominate her for.

“How he’s got a freckle, just here.” She blows on said freckle and he shudders, squeezing her shoulders between his knees in half-hearted retaliation. It’s with laughter that she encases him again between her lips and the muffled sound of it around his cock is almost too much.

“And how I can always tell when he’s about to come, warm and salty down my throat, because he swells up even more and the muscles in his stomach begin to twitch.” She looks up at him behind half-drawn lids; he never closes his eyes when she’s doing this because he’s too busy gazing down at her with unfettered veneration instead. Every single millisecond is precious and he knows what he has before it’s gone. Let no one say he didn’t appreciate a good thing long before it was inevitably gone.

She hums in triumph and the vibrations send him over the edge, finally succumbing to the darkness behind his eyes as he empties himself into her willing mouth. As she swallows him down, pulsating cock and all, he imagines his seed warm and safe in her belly while trying not to picture other places it’s never nestled itself and never will.

Pulling her back up onto the sofa and into his lap once the aftershocks die down, he holds her to himself with limp limbs and the bittersweet taste of sated remorse on his tongue.

“You’re the one who should win all the awards, Bills,” he murmurs and buries his face in her neck as he floats back down to Earth. She curls around him, stroking his arm and running her bare feet up and down his legs and if anyone walked in they would never know there were two people in this one entwined form.

“Can’t win awards if you’re not acting,” she whispers, her voice more milk than honey now and she briefly brushes the back of her knuckle against his cheek. She’s fully dressed and she never seems so naked as she does in these moments.

“I…” He trails off, biting his tongue and willing the sinews of his chest to untighten.

“Me too.” It’s so quiet it’s deniable. He doesn’t ask her to repeat herself.

“Bills?”

“Mmm?” Neither move to reveal their concealed faces.

“What _are_ you going to say? In your book?” His voice is cracked and he doesn’t bother hoping she won’t notice.

There’s a long silence.

“There’s a lot I’d like to say.” He’s quiet and after twenty-three beats of her pulse against his lips, she finally continues. “What if I said that we only  _told_  the press we had other partners? That it was all an elaborate decoy?”

Muted voices from the street below trickle in through the window and they hear the patter of steps above their heads.

“I think…I think you’d be up for that acting award again.” He exhales and his fringe flies up and then back down over his eyes. “I’d be the first to vote for you, you know.”

“I know.”

She stays in his arms until the sunset glow fades and the room begins to darken. With an almost-smile, she wipes her mouth on his shirt and rolls off him and he tucks himself back into his jeans and buttons up.

She doesn’t say goodbye and he doesn’t walk her to the door. 

—

He’s not sure whether to laugh or cry when he reads the final chapters of her book months later.

> _“ I was lucky to have worked with Chris, who is a brilliant actor. And then I got lucky again with David Tennant–‘Get down on your knees, people!’ I’m joking. He’s not like that–I just want to do that when I see him because he’s so bloody special. _ _Russell and Julie knew him from Casanova, and I suspect they knew straightaway that he would fill the hole perfectly.”_ (Billie Piper, _Growing Pains_ ) ([x](http://allegoricalrose.tumblr.com/post/101980005738/i-was-lucky-to-have-worked-with-chris-who-is-a))


End file.
